Sinful Rewards 1 by Cynthia Sax Page B

intruder. Light blinds me and I slap my hands over my eyes.
    â€œThere you are,” Cyndi calls out.
    â€œYou’re drunk.” I remove my hands. My inebriated friend stumbles toward me, a goofy grin plastered across her beautiful face. “And what the hell are you wearing?” She’s dressed in green plaid boxer shorts and a loose white tank top that barely contains her humongous breasts.
    â€œAwww . . . don’t be mad at me, Bee.” Cyndi throws herself on top of me, smacking her forehead against my collarbone. “I love you.” She attempts to hug me, her arms tangling in the sheets. “You’re my bestest friend in the whole wide world.”
    â€œI thought Angel was your bestest friend in the whole wide world.” I unwrap her fingers from the fabric.
    â€œAngel is a bitch.” Cyndi holds one of her freed fingers up, her voice muffled, her face remaining buried in my chest. “They let her into R, and she left me. Outside. Alone.” She turns over, her hard head grinding into me. “Then she sent me a picture of Cole Travers. It was blurry and snapped from across the room, but he was there. Cole Travers was at R and I wasn’t.”
    Angel is a bitch. Everyone knows Cole Travers is Cyndi’s favorite movie star. She’s been mooning over him since he arrived in town.
    â€œWhy doesn’t anyone like me?” Cyndi’s bottom lip trembles.
    â€œDon’t be an idiot.” I push her away from me, guilt harshening my response. “Everyone loves you.”
    â€œYou don’t love me. You never go out with me anymore.” She rolls off the bed and lands with a splat on the floor.
    I peer over the edge. She is sprawled over the hardwood, a mess but otherwise unharmed. “I’ll talk to Rainer tomorrow,” I tell her. “Then we’ll go to R on Friday to celebrate my full-time job.”
    Cyndi’s eyes widen. “Promise?”
    â€œPromise.”
    â€œPinkie promise.” She holds out her little finger.
    It is covered with unidentifiable grime. Sucking up my disgust, I hook my pinkie around hers. “Pinkie promise.”
    â€œHe hates me, you know.” Cyndi doesn’t release my finger, her expression suddenly grave. “Rainer hates my whole fam-damily.” She lies flat on her back on the floor. “And my daddy hates him right back. With a burning passion.” She flings her arms out. “I don’t know why because shhh . . . it’s a secret.”
    â€œRainer allows you to live in one of his precious buildings. He can’t hate you.” I roll my eyes. My best buddy can be paranoid at times.
    â€œHe has to let us live here.” She scrunches up her face. “Daddy won’t tell me why.” Cyndi rocks onto her knees and props her chin on the edge of the bed next to mine. She must have been drinking fuzzy navels again. She smells of alcohol and peaches. “Do you love him?”
    â€œDo I love your daddy?” I intentionally misunderstand her question. “He’s a bit old for me.”
    â€œNo, silly.” She laughs, jumping to her feet. “Do you love Rainer?” I don’t say anything because Cyndi has the remarkable ability to remember things she heard while drunk. I also don’t know how I feel about the billionaire. “You do!” She dances around the room, drawing her own conclusions. “You love him.”
    She wiggles her butt to the window and tugs on the curtains. The rod drops to the floor, the white fabric spilling around her feet. Cyndi doesn’t notice the chaos she’s created. She presses her face against the glass. “Bee loves you, Rainer,” she yells into the closed window. “She wants to have your baby.”
    My face heats. Thankfully the condos are soundproof. “Cyndi, you’re drunk.” I state the obvious. “Go to bed.”
    â€œYes, bed,” she squeals. She pivots and takes